The Wisdom of Souls
by magnoliablossom27
Summary: Many had wondered if they'd ever return. No one suspected it would be quite like this. The souls of the Four Founders have been reborn again, and they have the ability to shake the world.
1. Chapter 1

AD 1023

Rowena Ravenclaw slowly leaned back in her chair. It was the same chair at the same table at which she did all of her literary research - spell research was of course done in a secluded area away from the precious tomes of knowledge. Over the years the padded leather of the chair had worn through, so what was once an imposing high-backed seat now showed signs of weariness, as did its owner. She had, after many years of on and off searching, finally come to what must be the stopping places in this course of research. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the aches in her back and the weariness in her legs. She was 105 years old and knew of few people who had lived longer. Legend said that Merlin had lived to over 150, but that had been 300 years ago and was merely myth. Then again, it had been myth which led her to her current course of study. Perhaps one day she herself would be myth, she pondered absently. She quite liked the idea. She wondered if they would remember her gardens of sunflowers, or the crown of flowers she always wore in the spring. Thinking of the little she know of Merlin, she assumed not.

Merlin and his King Arthur of Camelot. A rumor had reached her home in the highlands when she was young and she had apparently kept it in her mind ever since. In her little village she and her brothers and cousins had been tutored in magic by her aunt Morag. Occasionally wise women and men would pass through the town seeking knowledge, as the little valley was known to be a haven to those who possessed… unusual talents. Dangerous talents, like the kind possessed by the fabled Merlin of Camelot.

The rumor that had been brought to her village, and many decades later brought again to her attention, was easily disregarded by most. The idea that a man long dead could rise again and save them all was ludicrous. Equally ludicrous was Rowena's reason for searching - she had no desire for a return of the legendary King Arthur, but rather for his magical advisor Merlin. Of course, there were no rumors that Merlin would one day return but perhaps if he had cast a spell on Arthur he would have cast a similar one on himself.

She had thought perhaps that a potion could be created to put a person to sleep, in stasis, until they were awoken, but research had ruled that out. Though it would perhaps be possible to do, the sources of the rumors were persistent - Arthur was certainly currently dead. She had read and travelled and asked. She had come back to this little cottage in the valley where she did her best research and had devoted her energy to the study, because if ever they needed a unifying force it was now.

Salazar and Godric had parted ways. What should she have done differently? She wanted nothing to do with their bickering, and bickering was what she insisted it was. All four of them knew the importance of staying hidden from the Muggles, and for Godric to actively search out magical children of Muggles was certainly dangerous, but she could see the heroism in the act as well. These were magical children, same as they had all once been long ago, but without the gift of a family to support them. Salazar insisted that no one do magic outside of school grounds, that the worthy would hear the spreading rumors and find them, and so they accepted those of all ages who arrived and together the community of Hogwarts became a safe haven of knowledge.

For Godric to have interrupted a witch trial was foolish, she could objectively say. To have publicly wielded magic was foolish, and especially to appear so competent. Salazar insisted that the more publicly and proficiently they did magic, the more extreme the response by the Muggles would be. A few lives in exchange for peace, he promised. He wanted them to fade into obscurity, and to do their magic away from prying eyes.

Godric had, by his own admission, gone looking for magic users. He wanted to do good, to save lives, but was he endangering them by trying to save a few, especially when most people being accused at witch trials weren't even magical? Salazar argued that any public performance of magic, even to save one accused Muggle, would just cause more Muggles to be falsely accused in the long run. To him, they were numbers. But Godric refused to put a price on human life, and continued to search. By taking no sides Helga and Rowena had inadvertently chosen one. They did not stop Godric, and they of course welcomed any magic users he found with open arms.

Salazar had run the community efficiently and there had been harmony for so many years, until the number of people Godric brought in began to grow in number and speak their thoughts. It was no secret that Salazar had not wanted to save them. Why should they let him lead them? Godric had saved them. Godric, who could not dress himself half the time and often got lost in the castle, was their savior and true leader. His courage knew no bounds, but his pragmatism certainly did. Rowena and Helga had stayed to run the school with Godric and to continue, as well as they could, keeping harmony in their community of learners. Salazar had left, betrayed or betrayer or both.

They needed a new leader. They needed Merlin risen from the grave, back from Avalon, alive to teach them and learn with them and unite them. Rowena had researched life and death and Camelot and Avalon and Morgan le Fay and Mordred. She toyed with the idea of trying to bring back le Fay as a common enemy to unite her people, but if the overhanging threat of mass-murdering Muggles was insufficient she doubted an evil witch would help. Perhaps she could let loose a few trolls in the school? She would save that as a last resort.

Either way, Merlin was not returning from the grave. Rowena had studied and invented and pondered and reinvented. Body, soul, and spirit, she now knew, were the key. As the body died, the spirit went to the afterlife. But what about the soul?

It didn't matter. The soul had no memories, no knowledge and experience to unite her people behind. The soul was the essence but not the substance.

Rowena absentmindedly closed her book and rose to put it back on its shelf with her precious collection. Over a hundred books were stored in this cottage, almost half as many as at Hogwarts itself. She would begin the return journey in the morning. This may have been her childhood home, but her soul truly lived at Hogwarts, as she knew Helga's and Godric's did as well. Once she would have said the same for Salazar but now she did not know.

The four of them had together accomplished more than any of them could have dreamed. Hogwarts, a home of magic, built by and for magic users. As she walked to her bedroom Rowena wished that all four of them could live happily together at Hogwarts once more, and as she slipped into bed she thought on that dream, a happy dream where one day the four of their souls would reconvene. As she dreamed that night an idea began to bloom, an idea born out of hope and fear and magic.

 **AD 1979**

Pandora Lovegood was making a box. Her co-workers no longer asked her about it. After the last project she had done, they weren't sure they wanted to know the answer. Her supervisor had reluctantly asked her what she was going to put into the box. Pandora had only smiled, amused.

She closed the door behind her and the room began to spin. Before it had started to slow she had begun walking across the room and was ready and waiting by the time the door stopped in front of her. She opened it and began the trek out from underneath the Ministry of Magic.

The question wasn't what she was going to put into the box. The question was, who would she take out of it?


	2. Chapter 2

Luna Lovegood stood at the doorway, head tilted to the right. If someone were to be walking down the seventh floor hallway as she exited the Room of Requirement, the game would be up. That was one reason that those inside the room tried to leave and return only during the night. However, she had to make an appearance at dinner and so would have to chance Fate.

"Luna," came a nervous voice from behind her, and she turned and perked her chin up.

"Neville," she responded evenly in her unique voice.

"Luna, please do take care of yourself." Neville's awkwardness faded away as his face hardened. "The Carrows are evil and the Slytherins aren't much better. We'll fix this - we will." He paused and his voice took on a very careful tone. "But maybe you should be trying to fit in, for a while. Don't attract attention. It might even be safest if you moved in here soon."

Luna blinked her round eyes at him. Neville always thought her expression made her look both incredibly engaged and disengaged simultaneously. On one hand you could tell that her mind did not work with the same rules as others'. On the other hand, when Luna listened she listened with her whole being.

"Perhaps, Neville. But then, you have an ulterior motive for asking, don't you?" queried Luna with no judgment in her voice.

"Wha-... What?" Neville sputtered and glanced around quickly to make sure the few others in the room were paying them no mind. The color began to rise in his cheeks.

"Well," explained Luna, her voice dreamy, "You seem to appreciate my visits very much. Much more than you like to talk to Anthony Goldstein, which is understandable given that you rarely leave the same room as him. Lavender and you seem to have very little in common despite both being Gryffindors. I suppose I make for an interesting break from routine. Right?" Her big eyes looked up at him and slowly blinked.

Neville put his hand behind his neck self consciously. "Um, you must be right Luna. Just please take care of yourself."

Luna let the glow of being cared for slowly seep into her chest and warm her. She blinked once more at Neville, not breaking eye contact, and slowly let a big smile slip onto her face.

"Of course, Neville. I will be seeing you soon." Without pausing to question Fate, she turned to the door and slipped quietly out into the hall, the door sliding shut behind her. Neville watched her go, then stared at the closed door for a moment longer before letting out a light sigh and turning back to the strange room he lived in these days. During her report Luna had promised to visit once more before going home for winter break in a week, and Neville already wondered how soon she would be back. Guilt filled him momentarily for his impatience with his living situation, before he got himself under control.

Help the students and stay alive. Those were the goals he had set himself. Luna was a student but also a soldier in this neverending battle he fought against Severus Snape. He knew that he was her General, in a way, and that she was not a weak pawn in this game. But looking at her it was sometimes hard to remember it. He took a moment to let his mind move past her visit, then walked back toward the central reporting table to plan his next assault.

Silver eyes watched as Loony Lovegood made her way down the stairs, arms swinging in tune to the quiet humming she was doing. These silver eyes knew better than most what would interest a student coming down this particularly set of stairs. There was only one room of note in the corridor above.

He watched as she slowly stilled and turned her head around her in a slow circle. He imagined her pulse speeding up and a sixth sense telling her she was not alone. He saw through her humming and overall battiness. In a strange way, it reminded him of his mother.

When most people saw his mother, they thought they knew everything about her in just a few moments. Beautiful, wealthy, ambitious, and married to a powerful man, and all those things were true about her. However by letting everyone see a superficial version of herself, his mother was allowed a level of subtlety and secrecy that most could not obtain. Any question to an Auror about her strength in battle and they would answer with a description of her pale countenance when her husband was sentenced to Azkaban two years ago. If one wondered about her loyalties they would think instead of the Malfoy family that she had married into, and forget entirely that she was born a Black.

Lovegood had resumed walking down the stairs with slightly more urgency, and he didn't leave his alcove or remove his Notice Me Not charm until she was long gone. He pondered what to do with this information, which of course he had already expected before planting himself in this spot and barely moving from it for two days.

There was a Mark on his arm pronouncing what he was to the world, and like simpletons most saw that and nothing else. Some of them had judged him differently than others - he scowled at the memory of Dumbledore - but it was this Mark that defined him to them. Like his mother, like Luna Lovegood, and like others he had yet to consider, he had many layers. He had first been Draco Malfoy before he ever was Marked, and the question now was, what would most benefit Draco Malfoy?


	3. Chapter 3

"Abracadabra!" he yelled, and with a bang plumes of bright green smoke emerged from his wand and engulfed him quickly.

"Out, out!" He gasped and regained his bearings, and quickly cast a charm to open the windows.

"Godric Gryffindor," he heard from behind him somewhere, "What on earth are you doing?" He could make out the shape of a woman with hands on her hips through the green haze, and he resigned him to a scolding.

"It's really not as bad as it looks, Helga," he began before he was cut off.

"Not as bad as it looks? Who cleans these rooms, Godric? Certainly not you. If you don't want the staff to throw a fit you'll make sure none of this… this GREEN absorbs into the carpet or stones. Can you imagine, all the work we went to building these homes and you turn your room green?" She huffed and began using her wand to channel air through the doorway she had entered through.

"Well," said Godric with faked confidence, "Soon we'll have a castle and won't need these homes at all."

"Soon!" She snorted and he could see that she was wearing her trademark yellow gown, which thankfully hadn't been marred by the green smoke. "Soon, he says. Follow me, he says. Five years, he says. Two more years. Just a few more years. Eleven years!"

Godric knew this speech by heart. He knew shortly she would complain about how elderly she was (a whopping 34) and then it would degenerate into what her parents would think if they could see her now, and maybe she should just return home, and he really didn't want to have caused any emotional breakdowns today so he knew he had to change the subject fast.

"Do you want to help me destroy this ugly hat?" He asked politely.

Helga stopped gesticulating at her hair (something about going grey) and said, surprised, "Pardon?"

Now that the air was mostly clear, Godric could again see the monstrosity sitting on the floor where he had left it.

"Well, Moren gave it to me, and that bloke… well I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and he keeps asking why I'm not wearing it, but really doesn't it look more like a witch's hat than a wizard's? It's just abysmal. I have been experimenting with a spell that causes nothing but destruction and I think it will go something like ABRACADABRA so I thought, if it were to be destroyed accidentally, then all problems solved right? Right, Helga?" He waited for her response as she pursed her lips and tilted her head and frowned at the dingy hat in the center of the room.

"Well," she began, which Godric deemed a distraction well done, "Could you just change how it looks? And then wear it? No, you would still hurt Moren's feelings. And nothing but complete destruction would do, or he would just fix it for you, darn handy with clothing spells he is." She brightened up, and looked back up at him. "I have an idea!"

There was something about the way she said it that made Godric a little wary.

"Exactly what sort of idea is this, Helga? Not like the 'Build underneath the lake idea' or 'We better befriend the centaurs idea'?" Helga, he mused, though a brilliant witch, was not known for her brilliant ideas.

"Yes, you'll love it!" She said, ignoring his questions about her past ideas. "Godric, what could possibly entice you to wear such an ugly hat?" She bounced a little on her toes, and a smile lit up her face. Her blue eyes were wide with anticipation and Godric had to admit that she looked quite pretty with her blonde-brown hair in disarray as it was. He cracked a smile at her enthusiasm and pondered her question.

"Besides changing how it looked? I supposed it would have to be pretty important. Useful, you know. Like if I could use it in battle or, if I were wearing in day-to-day, in my regular activities. I suppose it would have to be a hat with a purpose, if you know what I mean."

"Perfect!" Helga glowed with happiness that she had solved the riddle of the hat. "Then make it useful! Make it carry your books or sword or whatever you like, or make it recite healing spells for you to use during battle, or tell you what day it is! It could be The Useful Hat!"

She gushed, continuing, "Moren will be so happy!"

Godric rolled his eyes at the name of the Fabrics wizard who had given him the hat and put him in this quandary, but reluctantly acknowledged the merit of the idea.

"It would be nice not to have to carry the weight of my sword around." He thought outloud.

"Oh this is just wonderful!" continued Helga. "I'll go find Rowena and Salazar and we'll all four get started on it right away! They wouldn't want to miss this!" She grinned and went running back out the way she had come, leaving Godric standing alone save his soon-to-be Useful Hat.


	4. Chapter 4

He had thought about it and decided that he couldn't make a complete decision without more information. With that in mind, after Charms ended the next afternoon he had informed Pansy that he needed to speak with the Headmaster, and had begun the trek to the Headmaster's office.

It was interesting, he thought to himself, that the office had permitted Severus to enter. It had been widely known during his fifth year that Umbridge had been denied access. Most likely, he mused, it was because Dumbledore had still been living when Umbridge wanted the office. With Dumbledore now gone, the office probably didn't care who occupied it so long as it was occupied.

He suppressed a shiver and hurried his steps. Severus was a good Headmaster, despite what many believed. He was a true Slytherin, reining in the Carrows moderately but without drawing attention to himself. As Head Boy, Draco knew more than most, and he knew that Amycus had been mumbling about "Snape this and Snape that" and that both Carrows watched their backs before doing anything too blatantly horrific.

Horrific was definitely word for their methods. Draco sneered, and then straightened his face when he realized he was outwardly sneering. It was disgusting. Even if they had been muggles, to treat other humans the way the Carrows treated the students was barbaric. Humanity was meant to advance with time, not retreat to the way of the caveman where stronger was better.

He reached the gargoyle just as Snape was coming out of it, which itself was lucky since he didn't know the current password. His godfather wasn't as foolishly trusting as Dumbledore had been, and Draco had yet to go up to his office since Snape had taken it over.

"Draco," Severus greeted him politely.

"Headmaster," Draco replied with a slight bow of his head while remaining eye contact. Draco knew Severus was a Legilimens so it was both a show of trust and respect to maintain eye contact when appropriate. By not bowing lower he was showing his own power, but by nodding his head at all he was showing his subservience. It was all a balancing act, Draco reminded himself. Powerful but not too powerful. Respectful but not a servant.

"I was hoping I could have a moment of your time, Sir." Draco asked politely.

Snape looked at Draco, then quickly looked down the hall in the direction he had been going. He sighed.

"I suppose, judging by your simply standing there dumb, that this moment is insufficient?" Snape drawled to Draco, who inwardly smirked. Outwardly, he nodded his head once more.

"A private moment, if you can spare one Sir."

Snape let out a long suffering sigh and rubbed his temple with his hand. "Fine. Go up the stairs. Sit and do nothing else. No exploring, no peeking, no poking or prodding or even breathing on anything up there. I will deal with Filch and be back within minutes. Do NOT make me regret giving you this luxury, Draco." Snape's look bored holes into Draco's head, and if Draco had not been passing acceptable at Occlumency he might have though his godfather was reading his mind at that moment.

"No Sir. Thank you, Sir." And with another head bob, Draco quickly stepped up the stairs.

After 10 minutes, Draco was starting to wonder if Severus had forgotten about him. He had only seen the office once when Dumbledore occupied it, in Third year when that bloody hippogriff had mauled his arm and his father had dragged him up here to throw a ruckus about it even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted he stay in bed until his blood was replenished. Dumbledore had had doodads and gizmos covering every surface, but Snape left most of the room blank. The portraits were all still there, pretending to be asleep. Draco had only glanced at Dumbledore's portrait before averting his gaze quickly.

At the moment his curiosity was caught by the one item on the shelves that was not a book. The Sorting Hat sat slouched on a tall shelf, though not too tall for Draco to reach, not that he was thinking of such a thing. He had been wondering, since he saw Loony Lovegood the day before, what the Sorting Hat decided exactly to place people in each house. He was sure that Lovegood did not think that "wit beyond measure was man's greatest treasure" - after all, she was friends with a bunch of Lions and believed in made-up stories. An academic she clearly was not. And what about that oaf Longbottom? Any other year he would have said there was no way that boy was a Gryffindor, and yet this year he had taken a hit and come back swinging. Hiding in the Room of Requirement and organizing a resistance took serious guts and not a lot of brains. In his place, not that he ever would let himself be put in such a situation, but in his place Draco would have been out of the castle in seconds flat. He was a Slytherin through and through.

So how did the Hat know to put Longbottom in Gryffindor? As a chubby 11-year-old he wasn't brave. Did it choose based on some type of foresight? Or maybe, it just chose based on where you wanted to go and that was that. He had heard rumors of sortings that were full conversations. In his case the Hat had barely landed on his head before yelling "SLYTHERIN".

It was clear that Helga Hufflepuff hadn't designed the hat, or if would have sorted everyone into the house where they'd be the happiest. He pondered for a moment if he could have been happier in any other house, perhaps Ravenclaw, before pushing that idea aside. That wasn't what the hat had done, or Lovegood wouldn't have been in Ravenclaw. She was clearly miserable when interacting with her housemates, and they treated her like trash. Perhaps it sorted where it thought a person would be most successful - Longbottom was clearly thriving in Gryffindor, at least on a personal level. But then that brought up the idea of whether success was quantifiable. He grimaced, thinking of how it was a tenet of Slytherin philosophy, and put it aside as not something Gryffindor would have valued enough to enchant it into his Sorting Hat.

Draco had hardly realized that he had risen from his seat and was standing in front of the Hat. It had to have been at least 15 minutes since Severus had left, and he could be back any moment. But it's not as if Draco were touching an ancient Dark Arts book - and he'd seen some on the shelves - but just the dumb Sorting Hat. He could easily spin some yarn about something sentimental if Severus returned. He would see right through it, but likely wouldn't punish him.

Without further thought Draco picked up the hat and placed it upon his head quickly. Before it could say anything to him, he asked it _How do you work?_.

 _Magic_ , it replied cheekily. He could sense the amusement in the hat, though he wasn't sure how. He scowled.

 _No, I mean to say, what is your criteria for choosing houses for children? Do you want them to be successful, or happy, or fit in, or what?_ Draco was annoyed with himself for how inarticulate he sounded in his own head, but he didn't know quite how to phrase his question.

 _Ah_ , replied the Hat. _I think I know what you want to see_.

Draco suddenly had the feeling that he was very small and sitting on a stool. He knew somewhere that he was standing up, but he could feel his feet not quite reaching the floor and feel his hands gripped tightly on the side of the chair. He jerked in surprise when he heard a girl's voice within his own head.

 _Why, hello_ _Sir_ , she said politely. He almost responded but the Hat thankfully beat him to it.

 _Hello Miss Lovegood. What have we here? Smart, yes. Brave, very much so, and I'm afraid you'll need to be. Kind… isn't kindness a strange thing, my dear?_ This was a sorting - Luna Lovegood's sorting. Draco felt oddly guilty all of a sudden for intruding on what was a deeply personal moment, but he made no attempts to escape the illusion.

 _Kindness is very important, Mr. Hat. But I am ashamed to say that I find some things more important._

The hat was smiling slightly, though how Draco knew it he had no idea.

 _Yes, my dear? Like what?_

 _My Daddy tells me that the truth is more important that kindness, Mr. Hat. Sometimes we want to be kind but it would be kinder in the long run to tell the truth. That must always come first._

 _Very well, my dear. In that case it better be_ RAVENCLAW.

Draco felt himself fall back into his body and he caught his balance. He quickly took the hat off and rushed back to his seat. He would process that information later. For now was to wait for Snape, ignore the portraits eyeing him, and ask what, potentially, would happen to Longbottom and his gang if he were to be found. Draco had yet to decide whether to victoriously turn them in or use them for his own purposes, and dangling the question in front of Snape would make him suspicious but not unduly so. And now Draco had a whole new question to ponder - Luna Lovegood.


	5. Chapter 5

The crowd was quiet as they sat dispersed at the four round tables. Each table represented one of the Hogwarts Houses. Salazar wondered where the Hat would place the young woman standing before them.

She was pretty, or at least she would be if not for the scars on her right arm, up her neck, and covering the area where her ear used to be. Godric had done the unbelievable by finding out about the girl and saving her before her execution could be carried out. Of course he couldn't have possibly arrived 20 minutes earlier, because he had probably gotten lost or something else ridiculously pathetic. Salazar grinned ruefully and glanced over to the table next to his, where Godric's face was lit up.

There was a glow in Godric's eyes that Salazar hadn't seen since they had completed the central part of the castle a few years previously. Even then, Godric's joy had been worn down by the thirteen years of preparation, ward work, and construction. Now he was rejuvenated and young again. Everyone in the room seemed to have lost 10 years to their age at least, Salazar mused. He glanced at Helga, whose worn and tan face looked as youthful as it had when they'd first started construction almost two decades ago. She wasn't quite old enough to look matronly, but he knew everyone there viewed her as a surrogate mother figure.

Rowena's youthful vibrance had slowly morphed into a more tempered form, and she sat at her chair with all the grace one could muster in wizarding robes. Salazar didn't bother with the baggy robes and stuck to regular pants, boots, and tunic, and was grateful that he didn't get caught in the wind like the more traditional wizards and witches in their robes seemed to. He looked once again to the center of the room, where the young woman, Solene, stood nervously as Helga gave the usual speech about acceptance, courage, knowledge, growth, and community. Helga handed Solene the ugly, battered old Hat and Solene slowly raised it and put it atop her head.

"SLYTHERIN", the hat bellowed out after less than a fraction of a second. Salazar stood and clapped and beamed along with his cohort. He had been jealous to not gain any of the last few recruits to the Hogwarts Wizarding community, and he thought Solene would fit in wonderfully with his batch of witches and wizards. They shared a dormitory down in the cellar ("Dungeons" as Godric jokingly called them) and there were only four women and nine men. It would be nice to add another companion to the group.

It was after the Sorting and dinner that Salazar had his idea, and he stopped by the kitchens to pick up mulled wine and glasses before heading to Rowena's study. The glasses floated behind him as he walked, and he relished the freedom to do such a spell publicly without fear of detection and death. Hogwarts was truly a blessing to all of them.

He knocked on Rowena's room and heard a muffled response, so he slowly opened the door. Rowena was engulfed in some sort of cloud, but it vanished into the air as he walked through the doorway.

"Brilliant," he commented honestly. "Was that a rain cloud?" He set down the pitcher and glasses at her tea table and took a seat, not waiting for formalities with his lifelong friend and sometime romantic partner. Their relationship may look unusual to outsiders, but they were comfortable with one another.

She gave a little grumble.

"Well, in some ways it was," she replied, "but I can only seem to make it gather the water that's already in the air. I'm still trying to actually bring rain to an area without the water already in the air."

Salazar leaned back on the settee, eyebrows raised. "Impressive. As usual, your ideas are profound. Could you imagine gathering the water in the air over the ocean or over a farmland that has been oversaturated, and instead bringing it to a region that needed the water more? Or stopping the rain during an important ritual, only to allow it to fall afterwards?"

Rowena blinked slowly, looked back to where her small cloud had been, and looked back at him.

"Oh my," she responded politely. "And I was just thinking how nice it would be to be able to make it rain."

Salazar laughed out loud at that, without an ounce of surprise. "Tomorrow you're going to tell me everything about that rain cloud. But first, I have an idea that I need your help with. I think we should do something fun. We haven't had much time to really relax lately, and with Godric so happy right now I thought it would be nice to… well, to play a little prank on him. You in?"

Rowena, smirking, got up and sat at the chair across from Salazar. She poured herself a glass from the pitcher.

"And what sort of prank would require my help?" She asked, amused.

"Well," Salazar began, and Rowena immediately knew she would participate no matter what. When she and Salazar put their heads together it was always so _fun_.

"You remember a few years back how Godric tried to make that ugly hat useful? He used to store his sword in it and some essence of dittany whenever we had any available, and he wore it everyday for months before it got so ratty looking. I was thinking we spruce it up and give it back to him, of course make it temporarily stop randomly sorting our new members, and then after he's gotten used to it again start making it act unusual. You know, start singing, or drop things on his head, something like that. Anyway, if we sneak into his office while he's at lunch tomorrow…"

Salazar and Rowena stayed up late laughing at potential jokes they could pull on their friend Godric and at each other's ridiculous ideas. Little did they know what those ideas would one day lead to.


End file.
